


thirteen implications of horrors untold

by saltandburnit



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandburnit/pseuds/saltandburnit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things were never spoken. Others were merely never realized. [13 Sabo-centric pieces under 100 words. Dark themes.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	thirteen implications of horrors untold

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a little experiment of mine, not meant to be taken too seriously. I should warn it's considerably dark, overly -perhaps unreasonably- dramatic and generally not really meant to be posted. Basically if you've read anything else of mine and are hoping for more- this is not what you're looking for. Still I hope it's worth the read. One of them I think passes the 100-word wordcount. Oh well.

thirteen implications of horrors untold.

 

_1\. Parallels._

   A man carries the body of a burned child to safety, to life, to a new hope.

   Fifteen years later and  
the man carries the body of his lost boy. No safety. No life. No hope.

   They're the same, yet nothing else is.

 

 

_2\. Force of habit._

   Someone needs you. You help. It's a natural instict done hundreds of times already.

    Your little brother in all his seven-year-old glory falls in the river. Again. You jump in after him. It's a habit by now. Something you know you have to do.

    Your little brother and all his nineteen years fall into the ocean. Again. You jump in after him. It's a habit by now. Something you have done hundreds of time.

You're forgetting something.

     Aren't you?

 

_3\. Different Kind of Loss._

   It is by random that you find each other. Or rather, he finds you. Because when your gazes meet, when you stare at each other, his eyes widen and yours don't. You don't understand. You walk away.

When you do finally understand, those eyes of his are gone for you.

4\. Needless promises.

   You found a boy. He's hurt, scared, and broken and hopeless. And you promise you'll never forget the words he tells you.

   And yet soon he will forget you.

Do you tell him of your promise?  
Do you?

   The one thing you can't protect him from is the _truth._

 

 

_5\. All They Ever Wanted._

   You did not think your death would ever make a difference to the people who never cared about you in the first place. But it's hard not to think of some sort of retribution to those monsters. At least their heir was gone... at least you couldn't marry the princess anymore... at least...

“Stelly, King of Goa, son of Outlook III.”

    Doesn't the world feel like it's swallowing you up again?

 

 

_6\. Trigger Warning._

   In hindsight, this was the worst place you could be in.

A prison for slaves never bought, never needed, never _wanted_. It reeks of blood. You should have known. You open the back door. You should have _known._

And she screams right next to you. She screams at the sight that brings back the darkest of her memories. She screams and you hold her as you feel your sanity escaping you little by little.

 

 

_7\. Self-conscious._

   When they ask you why you never cut your hair, you tell them without thinking of their reaction. You tell them you want to hide your scar. You think they'll understand. They do. But then again they don't.

   They say you look fine, they reassure you. And though you're self-conscious of your scar that is not the reason for it being hidden, forbidden.

   But how can you tell them that every time you catch a glimpse of it, you feel the fire ghost over the scarred skin? How can you tell them you sense the memories clawing at your mind,  _demanding_ yet always out of reach?

How do you say that the magnitude of what you don't know is driving you insane?

 

 

_8\. Conformity._

   They're all the same, aren't they? Happy. Conceited. Arrogant. Above everything and everyone, even themselves. And they're happy with it. They're all so willing to accept it. Why isn't anyone mentioning how awful they're all being? Why isn't even one of them trying to change it?

You're too young a child to be asking questions like that.

You're even younger to have a voice in the back of your head that whispers that maybe, just maybe, there's something wrong with you instead...

 

 

_9\. Oblivious._

   You have no idea what you're doing there. Nothing major is happening at that part of the world at the moment and yet he insists to be there at that specific time.  
A young boy's execution, unplanned as it seems, catches your interest. Through a miraculous turn of events his life is spared. You didn't help but you have a feeling your leader might have. You didn't help.  
It will take years for you to realize the true significance of the events of that day. The horror of realization hits you hard enough to make you crumble.

 

 

_10\. Defeat._

    You watch what has been your home for the last twelve years fade in the distance. Taken from you from a man. The same man who, in a way, took away your brother.

And you hate him. Burning hot, flaming hatred. Anger.

You're not nearly as angry with him as you are towards yourself. You let this happen. This was your _home_. Taken by _him._

    Is that how you're honoring this fire?

 

 

_11\. Cracked._

   With memories now intact, a startling realization doesn't take too long to settle in. Calm, collected, the more responsible of the three. _Let's go_ , you had yelled, unwilling to fight someone dangerous. Alarmed when you had to.

Calm, collected, level-headed.

_“None of you are strong enough to defeat me.”_

Conceited, angry, violent.

And you start to wonder how much sanity you've given up over the years. And you don't yet dare fear how much more will be lost in the years to come.

 

 

_12\. Claws and Monsters._

   There's blood on your hands and enemies at your feet, a dangerous gleam in your eyes.  
There's blood on your hands, coating your fingers and you ask yourself with a small smirk: claws of  _dragon-_  what is it that you're hoarding exactly?

 

 

_13\. Reflection._

  You see him. He hasn't changed a bit. Your precious little brother. He's strong now, yet still so full of sunshine as he always has been.

He sees you too. You have changed quite a bit. His beloved older brother. You're still strong, stronger than you were. You're... You're...

_What are y...?_

He sees you too. And you see yourself and hope flickers like candlelight. You don't see the same...

-do you?

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. Please remember to leave a review. I suppose you can yell at me for not uploading a proper fic too.


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